Chapter twenty nine

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The sound of a gunshot sent the roosting birds scattering from their nests. He stood there sucking in shallow breaths as if he forgot how to breathe. His knees trembled as he watched the man slump to the ground. Memories of death flashed in his mind. He opened his mouth but no voice emerged even though he wanted to scream. 

Another gunshot blasted outward from amongst the trees. Jet's eyes turned to look as the reality of the situation he had found himself in became clear, though the sniper remained hidden. He turned back to the man on the ground and finally broke free of the shock that had chained him to the spot where he stood.

"Dad!" he screamed as he scrambled toward the man. He dropped to the ground, unable to carry himself any longer. He scooped him up onto his lap. Blood was erupting from a wound in his chest. Jet placed a hand over the spot, tears spewing from his eyes and his heart shattered over and over in his chest. He lifted his eyes, aware of the danger that surrounded him.

"Take them to the bog. Make sure Jet dies quickly. I don't want him to have any pain."

Ben nodded and started coming toward Jet. He picked up the gun that had fallen next to his father and pointed it at the colossal man.

"I told you, I'm not going in that place. It's disgusting, filthy and I won't have it as my eternal resting place."

"Ah, I see, the glamor model wants his grave to be as beautiful as he is," his grandfather said to the man and then looked down at Jet. "It will be. Don't you worry. I intend to build a nice flower garden here. Nice flowers and terraces, gazebos as far as the eyes can see. It will be beautiful Jet but not as beautiful as you, that's not possible. You're my grandchild, nothing is as pleasing to the eyes as looking at you."

"Fuck you!"

"That's no way to talk to the man who has your life in his hands now is it?"

"I'm going to die anyway, aren't I? At the hands of a psycho? I give up, do whatever you want. It sickens me anyway - that your blood runs in my veins," he said as he dropped the gun. He looked at his father, partially blinded by his tears. He could feel his breathing becoming more labored with each breath that he took. His body shook in Jet's lap. "Dad..." His eyes remained shut, his breathing became forceful gasps for air as the life drained from him. Jet passed a hand over his hair, he felt like he was dying too.

He started to pray in his mind, to beg God for this nightmare to just be a dream and nothing more. The fear and panic were so bad that he forgot to breathe. He didn't want to watch his father die, he didn't want them to part ways on such bad terms. He should have listened, he should have not allowed his emotions to take control of him just like he always did. He did it when he found out he was being cheated on and took the life of an innocent woman. He even broke Rain's heart by allowing those emotions to control him. He was shocked at how pathetic he could become at times and he hated himself for it.

"Dad..."

"Jet...go..." The man's voice was weak, blood ran down the side of his mouth and Jet wiped it away. "Go Jet...run before..." His words turned to inaudible slurring as blood oozed out his mouth. Jet's body became numb, every sensation except the pain in his heart, varnished. One last breath escaped the man's mouth and Jet felt a piece of his soul die. The pain was so excruciating that a scream escaped his mouth as tears blinded his sight from the world around him. He screamed again, wishing that he could die too, it was a far better faith than living with this pain.

A rage from deep inside his soul rose like a tide and he scrambled up the gun with such swiftness that he scooped up some dirt. He pointed it at his grandfather who laughed at him. He showed not a shred of sadness even though he had just watched his son die.

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